


You're More than Statistics

by Vienamarie



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Body Worship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vienamarie/pseuds/Vienamarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans knows he's about as strong as a wet napkin, but he thought it didn't bother him anymore. When he gets called out on it, he and a certain fiery bartender realize he isn't as above this as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're More than Statistics

**Author's Note:**

> This just kinda popped in my head the other day and I decided to write it down. Purely self-indulgence on my part, but I figured others might enjoy it, too, so here you go. C:
> 
> Edit: good god, editing HTML on mobile is a fuckin nightmare. Can you guys tell I like italics?

Grillby didn't get angry often, if ever. He could count all the times he's shouted at someone on one fiery hand. The male just didn't get mad enough to find hostility worth it nine times out of ten.

Today was that one outlier.

Sans was always at his bar, like usual, but what was new was his seating atop the counter. 

The habit began about a month into their relationship; Sans liked to perch there to either pester Grillby with jokes and kisses or hop down to the other side and help mix drinks (“hey, if you cleared my tab just because I'm your bonefriend, what'll I get out of helping you on the job? Hehe”). The elemental didn't mind, and the patrons didn't care, so he let it continue.

One evening, Sans arrived to help Grillby open for the day. Having requested time off from sentry duty, he wanted to spend the day with his flaming partner, and Grillby didn't complain. Soon enough, the place was bustling with the regular patrons and occasional new straggler. 

After helping Grillby carry a couple trays of drinks to a large table, the skeleton moved to climb up and sit on the bar. He wasn't accounting for a spilled drink on the surface, and completely slipped off of it and hit the hardwood floor with a thud. 

Grillby turned, flaring for a moment as a hush fell over the restaraunt. In a moment he was behind the bar and helping Sans sit up.

“Are you -”

“I'm fine, don't panic.” He smiled reassuringly. “Didn't lose a decimal.”

The male let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and relaxed. He loved Sans, but sometimes his carelessness frightened the flame. He opened his mouth to scold him when a groan emerged from one of the booths.

“For fuck’s sake.” It was a female patron, and a bird of some sort by the looks of it. Her face was flushed, making it clear she was at least buzzed. “So pathetic.”

Sans and Grillby shared a confused glance.

“Uh..’scuse me?” The smaller male said, standing and straightening himself a moment. Grillby rose as well and grabbed a rag to wipe down the spill on the bar. “You alright?”

“Oh, I'm perfectly fine.” She huffed. “ _My_ HP is greater than one.”

Sans blinked, taken aback. “...congrats?”

“I feel sorry for Grillby.” She continued. “His anxiety must be through the roof, knowing his boyfriend could be killed by something as simple as a fall.”

The establishment was quiet. Grillby cleaned off the counter at a slower pace, contemplating whether or not the monster would need escorted out. He didn't think he wanted to hear the rest of this conversation.

“Do you have a point?” Sans frowned. “Because I don't think I like what you're saying to me right now.”

“I wish somebody would put you outta your misery and dust you!” She snapped, and almost fell out of her seat. The other patrons gasped or let out other disapproving sounds.

“What?” Sans said. He looked uncomfortable, and Grillby felt his flame increase in temperature. 

“You're weak as fuck and everybody in Snowdin knows it!” She said. “Don't you feel bad, worrying people all the damn time!? Papyrus has probably considered it -”

“Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?” Sans growled, eye sockets devoid of any light source.

“You can't refute it!” She said. Her eyes crossed a moment, a sign of heavy intoxication, but she just wouldn't shut up. “Anything could kill you, dumbass! A fall, a strike, even a stray snowball or a bad cold!” The bird stood and wobbled on her feet, placing feathered hands on her hips. “Don't you feel guilty?! Nobody wants to spend real time with you outside the bar because they don't wanna be there when you crumble!”

A whoosh sound filled the air behind Sans. He turned to find that Grillby’s flame was redder and taller. The rag in his hands was burning away but he ignored it, walking towards the woman in quick, angry steps.

In four strides, he was in front of her with a ball of fire resting in his palm. 

“Get out.”

The bird wasn't impressed. “He's going to die some day. Probably soon, since he's so -”

“ _Get out!!_ ” He shouted, raising the ball in a threatening motion. She flinched away and turned with an indignant humph, stumbling out the door.

Rage rolled off the elemental in waves and his flame crackled loudly. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose once she was gone, and hesitant chatter began again in the other customers.

“Sans, are you -” he began to ask, but when he looked around the smaller monster was nowhere to be seen. Grillby looked, but came to the conclusion that he must've teleported away. Worry replaced his anger and he crossed his arms, upset. 

Everyone knew Sans only had one health. The skeleton himself had made that clear to each monster he befriended so they'd be more careful in the future. He didn't like letting people know he could be accidentally dusted by something as simple as a Froggit, but he couldn't exactly throw caution to the wind roughhouse with anybody, either. That bird today had _no right_ to make the bartender’s boyfriend feel guilty about something out of his control.

Grillby couldn't let this go. He closed the bar a few hours early that day and donned his coat, setting out for Sans’ home. Papyrus answered the door, looking distraught.

“HE WON'T LEAVE HIS ROOM AND HE WOULDN'T TELL ME WHAT THE MATTER WAS.” he explained, letting Grillby inside. “WHAT HAPPENED, GRILLBY? HE WAS WITH YOU ALL DAY, WASN'T HE? THAT ALWAYS MAKES MY BROTHER HAPPY, NOT..WELL, UNHAPPY.”

“I had a rude customer in my establishment.” The flame monster explained. “They…” 

He didn't want to upset Papyrus with what she'd said, but the taller skeleton had a right to know. He wasn't dumb, after all; he could ask around and easily get answers, so it was better to hear it from the source. After he finished talking, Papyrus merely shook his head.

“You don't happen to know the name of this woman?” He asked, and the quiet of his tone startled the bartender. 

“No.” He said, but he could describe her for him. Papyrus sighed and went to the door to put his shoes on.

“Well, I'll be back.” He said. “Will you tell Sans I'm out running an errand?”

Grillby nodded, watching the monster leave the house with determination in his eyes. Nobody could tell him Papyrus wasn't a good brother. Or threatening when he didn’t want to be. He didn't have the heart to hurt someone, of course, but that didn't mean Undyne wouldn't back him up.

He turned, crossing the living room and ascending the stairs. Stopping outside Sans’ door, he knocked twice and waited for a response. He didn't hear anything but a quiet rustle.

“I'm fine, Paps.” He called stiffly. “Just leave me some leftovers in the fridge.”

“It's me.” Grillby said, and Sans went quiet again. 

“Is your niece tending by herself?” He asked after a minute. “She's not old enough to serve alcohol.”

“I closed up for the day.” The flame replied. “May I come in?” Trying the knob didn't lead him anywhere, considering it was locked. “Sans?”

“Hey, don't sweat it.” The skeleton called. “Sorry I bailed, but uh...got a headache.”

“Please open the door, Sans.” Grillby said. “I need to talk to you.”

“I can hear you just fine.”

“I'm not going to talk to a door.”

“Hey, it's a pretty _solid_ listener, if you ask me.”

The elemental let out an exasperated sigh. “I want to hold you.”

“You'd probably dust me.” Sans blurted, and the both of them flinched. “...I'm sorry, I didn't mean -”

Grillby knocked on the door again and cut him off, too tired to vocally repeat his request. Silence filled the air, and then the door was unlocked. He stepped inside to find Sans hugging his knees in the bed.

“Are you okay?” He asked him, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pulling the skeleton into his lap. Sans closed his eyes and leaned against him, but he kept his hands to himself.

“Yes.” He said, and Grillby knew from his tone it was a lie. “I'm sorry I left; I didn't want to lash out more than I had.”

“Don't apologize.” Grillby said, holding him closer. “You didn't deserve what that woman said to you.”

Sans shrugged. “She wasn't...incorrect.”

“What?” The bartender looked down at him. Sans didn't meet his gaze.

“I know…” He swallowed thickly. “I know she was rude, but she was...right. Grillby, I can hold my own in a battle, but that's because I never get hit.”

“Sans -”

“I've had years to accept my situation. It doesn't bother me anymore, it really doesn't. I'm not afraid of death.” He frowned, looking down at his hands. “I'm afraid...of the _consequences_ of my death.”

Grillby didn't understand. He wished Sans would look at him. “I'm confused.”

The monster’s smile was hollow. “Papyrus is all I have.” He whispered, and Grillby wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't leaning against his chest. “If I lost him, I would fall down. And he has me, too, but…” 

_But he has friends that will look after him._

_But he's stronger than I am._

_But he isn't frail._

_But...he'll move on._

Sans realized that he wasn't afraid of leaving people to mourn, he was afraid of leaving people in relief. He hadn't gotten upset and left the bar because that bird was out of line, he had left because he knew everything she was spewing at him was the truth.

These monsters...Grillby, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys... they would all get over it because he was more of a liability than a real person. No one wanted to spend time with him because they didn't want to be around to clean up his ashes. He didn't blame them.

“Please,” Grillby’s voice broke the silence and he finally looked up, meeting a surprisingly dim flame. “Sans, please, tell me what you're thinking.”

The fire could feel Sans’ soul as he held him close. It was _so cold,_ and radiated negativity. The taller monster hated it. His own body tried to compensate by becoming warmer.

Sans should **never** have to feel that way.

The skeleton seemed to realize what was happening and tried to pull away from Grillby’s lap, but the other wasn't having it. 

“This is...man, this is dumb.” Sans mumbled, pushing gently against him to get free. “What are we doing? Sitting around in a dirty bedroom listening to me blab like an idiot.” He finally broke out of the embrace and shuffled over to the other end of the bed, crossing his legs. “I'm sorry I left. I didn't mean to make you worry and close the bar.”

“I don't care about that.”

“You could lose business.”

“That doesn't matter. I'm more worried about you.”

“There's nothing to worry about. Your concern is misplaced.”

Grillby looked at him pensively. “...I love you.”

Sans clenched his fists in his lap. “You shouldn't.”

The elemental’s soul ached. They'd been together more than a year; the two had exchanged countless declarations of love between them but Sans wouldn't say it now. 

“I do.” Grillby replied. “And I'll continue to love you, Sans.”

“Why?” The shorter monster asked. He glared at Grillby but there was no real anger there. “I told you… I told everyone I became friends with not to get invested, because I'm weak. A fucking _moldsmal_ can dust me, and they're barely sentient enough to know what they are! That girl was right. She was drunk off her ass, but she didn't say anything people weren't already aware of.”

He was shaking now, on the verge of tears. Grillby has never seen him this emotional before.

“You're getting involved with someone half dead!”

“I don't care.” Grillby said. The skeleton frowned as he watched him move towards him, but didn't resist that hard when he pulled him close once more. “You have one health, and that's never going to leave my mind... But you also have large eye sockets.”

Sans blinked, thrown off-guard. “...wh...uh, what?”

Grillby coaxed the male to lie down, kneeling over him with purpose.

“You have large eye sockets,” he repeated, “and very mesmerizing lights inside of them.” A flaming hand gently traced the rim of Sans’ left socket and he shuddered. “You also have a very malleable jaw and mouth.” His fingers traced over the areas he talked about as he continued. “And seven cervical vertebrae that make up your neck, and very defined clavicles. Your shoulders are hard and smooth, and your sense of humor is about as humerous as your humerus…”

Sans didn't look like he was about to cry anymore. He was upset, sure, but it was much less intense. He was watching Grillby with a mix of confusion and curiosity.

The flame brushed over Sans’ arms and stopped at his hands. Gently he lifted them up and threaded his fingers through the skeleton’s.

“Your phalanges are dwarfed by my hands,” he mumbled, bringing one up to kiss it, “but that doesn't make them any less enjoyable to hold.” He let his hands go, extremely pleased when Sans moved them to lightly grip the fire’s forearms, and reached down to push his shirt up and touch his spine.

“You have spongy cartilage,” he said, methodically tracing his hand over each vertebrae and watching Sans puff out a breath, “and a flexible spine.” Grillby brushed both hands over his pelvis through his shorts. Sans didn't have lips to bite but the way he clenched his teeth was very attractive. 

“You have a well-defined pelvic area. Very nice to touch…” He stated. He didn't linger, much to both of their disappointment, and traced his femurs. “If you had thighs, they'd be exceptionally sculpted.”

Sans’ face was dusted light blue in embarrassment. Clearly he wasn't used to praise.

Grillby was going to change that.

“To patella the truth…” The flame continued, moving his hands down even more. Puns sounded stiff and weird coming from him, but that was besides the point. “Your bones are the most beautiful shade of ivory I've ever seen. But I think…”

This was what would make or break what he was aiming for. Grillby ghosted his hands back up Sans’ body, stopping at his shirt again to push it up even more.

“I think the ribcage is my favorite part of you.” He mumbled. “Your ribs are smooth and comfortable, your sternum is firm and secure, but what I like the most are the spaces between.” 

Sans waited with uncertainty in his eyes, but he didn't shy away or tell the elemental to stop. The amount of trust he had in him was incredibly humbling, and he wouldn't dare betray that for anything.

Grillby leaned in close, his mouth hovering inches over the skeleton’s.

“I love how beautiful your soul looks when it rests inside your chest.” He whispered. With a fiery palm he tenderly called Sans’ soul forth, watching it materialize and flutter around behind his ribs. Slowly and calmly he reached inside and cupped it in his hand.

The rush of emotion that consumed him made both monsters gasp. Grillby could feel all of the self consciousness and hesitation and _suffocating loneliness_ inside Sans. It scared him. Why did he feel like this? Why was it so deeply seated? It threatened to consume even the flame, but he couldn't let it distract him.

If he pushed past the surface sensations, he could feel warmth. There was love in there. 

He loved Papyrus unendingly and unconditionally. He loved Undyne for her boundless energy and spunk. He loved Alphys’ quirky manner and obsession with anime. He loved the woman behind the door for her similar sense of humor and motherly nature. 

He loved Grillby. 

The flame let out a shaky breath and cupped Sans’ soul in both hands. Sans watched him with tense eyes.

“This may be the essence of your being…” Grillby said. “And it may not have encouraging stats, but it's still _you,_ Sans. Your health doesn't define you, your interactions and the relationships with the people around you do.”

He brought Sans’ soul to his chest and held it there, calling his own soul into tangibility to hold against it. The smaller monster whined, overwhelmed by the genuine affection he radiated.

“I love you.”

Sans laid flat on the bed and palmed his eyes, a steady stream of tears escaping. “I love you, too.” He almost whimpered, finally, finally opening up. “I'm _sorry,_ Grillby, I'm so -”

“Don't be.” He returned his soul so his chest and did the same to the skeleton’s, then lied down next to him and cradled the male close. Sans clung to him like his life depended on it. “I'm sorry you've felt so bad about your situation for so long. It's true that you have to be careful, it is. But no one thinks of you as a walking hazard. No one is waiting around for you to turn to dust in front of them. And if they are, then I'm going to take care of it.” 

Sans hugged him tighter and nodded, touched beyond words. Instead he cried and held the flame, soaking in his warmth and basking in the security he provided to his person. Grillby rubbed circles in his back in return, murmuring assurances and comfort into his skull.

He loved the way Sans’ soul warmed. As long as they were together, he wouldn't let it become cold again.


End file.
